Reawakened Memories
by Kida Kuro
Summary: It's been about 10 years since the event on Rockfort Island. Claire gets strange voice messages from a guy named "Steve" and is invited to meet him... Rewrite of A New Meeting
1. Chapter One

_Reawakened Memories_ is a rewrite of my _A New Meeting_. I'm hoping that this will turn out better and that I personally will be more satisfied with this. So far I am. Constructive Critism is welcome and I hope that everyone who reads this finds this to be satisfactory as well. I've already stated why I have decided to do this on _A New Meeting Chapter Six _which is also incomplete I might add. (I won't be finishing that chapter unless someone really wants me to) Also I am not deleting _A New Meeting_ even if I believe it's a failed attempt. It's something that can be looked back on to see how I've improved from that first fanfic.

Resident Evil and all Resident Evil characters belong to CAPCOM

The story and the personalities of these characters are mine. They are my own vision of what the characters are like and how they'd react.

Thank you and please enjoy.

EDIT: I've fixed this up and added about 400-500 words-mainly to the ending. I'll hopefully get started on chapter two soon. My younger brother keeps bugging me though about him getting the computer or me playing Code:Veronica though. I had to restart from one of my ealier saves on it so Claire has enough health to get past Steve. Bit ironic. At least I get to see Chris slap Wesker again : P I'm right at that part where Wesker chokes him. Hate Bandersnatches and then the poisonous Hunters though. BAH. WHY'D STEVE HAVE TO KILL ME A MILLION TIMES?! _

* * *

Claire was frowning when she came home from work, exhausted, but happy that her vacation started the next day. She dropped her stuff on the couch, going to untie her shoes when she noticed that her answering machine was blinking and went over to check it instead.

"First message," said an automated voice before a familiar one was heard. "Hey, Claire, I finally got a chance to call you. I'm going to be home this month. I'll call you again to tell you my flight schedule. Talk to you later."

She smiled at that; he had made her day just then. "Chris," she said aloud, feeling slightly excited at the chance to see her brother after a few months.

"Second message," the automated voice spoke up.

"Another?" Claire muttered to herself, _maybe it's Leon. Haven't heard from him in a while._

"Hey, this is Steve. Meet me at the café on Twelfth in three days."

"End message . . . no more messages," the answering machine sounded with its artificial voice.

Claire stood in shock for a moment, "Steve?" she whispered, shaking her head in astonishment at the voice that struck a needle through her heart, "p-prank call." She walked off toward her small two bedroom apartment's only bathroom to take a shower, trying to shrug the strange message off.

After her shower, she dried her hair and got dressed. Claire scolded herself for continually thinking of the message from "Steve." _He's dead._ She reminded herself, _Steve Burnside is dead._

Claire walked past the answering machine again while on her way to the couch, but she couldn't help but stop and stare at it for a moment before replaying the last message.

"Hey, this is Steve. Meet me at the café on Twelfth in three days."

_Sounds fake, _she convinced herself, leaving it alone and watching whatever she could find on cable.

The next day, the phone rang while Claire was making something for herself to eat. Figuring if it was important enough that they would leave a message, she left it alone.

When she finally checked her machine, it said after the usual computer generated voice, "Steve again. You'll meet me at the café in two days, right?" "End message . . . no more messages."

"Uh . . ." she backed up, having not expected that. She sat on the couch and leaned onto her arm. _Whoever it is, I guess they aren't the type to give up. _She glanced at the machine again, ignoring the goodies that were being made on the food channel.

After what seemed like an eternity of just staring at it, she got back up and replayed it again, trying to remember exactly how her Steve had sounded.

"It still can't be him," she said, giving up after about twenty times, the voice sounding more and more like the Steve she knew.

She tried to push back her returning thoughts of Steve for the rest of the day, it not being a very successful attempt. That night she had dreams of that moment, the moment he had died. . .

. . .and when she awoke, it had sent chills up her spine and she found herself crying.

Claire had woken up later than usual, it being one in the afternoon. She saw that she had another voice message and prayed that it wasn't "Steve."

She had waited a while before playing it, just getting herself composed.

"Meet me at the café tomorrow at noon, okay?" was today's message from the stalker Steve.

After that, Claire decidedly called Leon about it, figuring he'd be more calm than Chris. Claire mainly just wanted someone's support or guidance in the matter.

"This is Leon," he had picked up after a few rings; he sounded preoccupied.

"Hey, Leon. Can I talk to you about something?" she asked, trying to get straight to the point.

"Claire? Uh, yeah. Sure. What about?"

"Well there's been this guy calling me the past few days and asking me to go to some café tomorrow. I've only let the machine take it though."

He was silent for a moment, "I'll be over tonight. Make sure your door's locked. If he knows your number, he knows where you live. We can't take any chances of you getting hurt."

"Leon, you don't have to. I just wanted to tell someone about it. You know Chris would absolutely freak if he knew. If you really want, just come to the café with me tomorrow and we'll catch him. You'll be my backup."

She heard Leon sigh, knowing he liked to play hero, "all right, what time?"

She smiled a little at his submissive attitude about it, "the guy wants me to meet him there at noon. _The café on Twelfth_ is what he said. Think you can make it?"

"Yeah. I'll meet you at your house at eleven then, we can talk about it then. Bye."

"Okay, bye," she waited for him to hang up before doing so herself. She then went to make sure she was ready for the meeting with "Steve."

Claire got up at nine the next morning, doing her usual routine until the phone rang. She answered it, "Claire Redfield."

There was a chuckle in her ear which made her twitch slightly, "hey, you going to show up at the café?"

She tried to stay calm and ordered, "who are you?"

"Didn't you get the messages? It's Steve. It's been a long time, but I'm alive."

Claire shook her head, quickly hanging up and sitting, trying to let the small amount of information sink in. "No. This is too weird. It really does sound like him."

A while later there was a knock at the door, forcing her to get up and answer it.

"Sorry I'm a little early," Leon said immediately.

She shook her head, "no, it's fine, come in." Claire stepped back to allow him in before shutting and locking the door.

"Did anything happen?" he walked over to the couch, standing by it.

"Nothing really. He called a while ago," she hadn't moved from the door.

"Did you answer it?" he asked, sounding tense.

She nodded, "yeah. Yeah I did."

Leon then pulled out a map, "got a table?"

She nodded and led him into the kitchen where there was a table pushed up against the far wall, a foot away from a counter.

Leon set the map out on the table, an area was circled in red which he pointed at. "Here's where the café is located. _The Sunrise_. Cheesy name if you ask me."

"Agreed," she looked the map over, "you could park a block away and walk in after a few minutes, couldn't you?"

"Yeah. You'd have to be careful even when I arrive though. He shouldn't know that we know each other. It'd put a damper on us if it slipped though."

"I know, I know," she rolled her eyes at his "professionalism." "So I'll park out front and head in while you park a block away," she glanced at him, looking for a reaction.

"Right. And then you'll head inside. I'll guard the outside for about ten minutes and then come in. If anything happens, I have my cell. Do you got yours on you?"

"It's in my room. I'll go get it," she jogged off while Leon packed the map up. When she came back, he was at the door.

"Ready?" he asked, "we might as well get there early."

She nodded, her brown ponytail bobbing as she did, "yeah."


	2. Chapter Two

YES. I got this up quickly. I don't really know what to say about it besides that it may be disappointing. I'm not sure. Anyway I didn't quit even though my younger brother kept pestering me which is really quite distracting. :P Thank you for reading and I appreciate constructive critism and just hearing that people like it in general. Thank you. :3

* * *

Claire stepped into _The Sunrise_, she was clutching her cell phone in her jean's pocket. She was wearing a black shirt and a red jacket which had a holster with a gun on the inside; there were lyrics from _Queen_ on the back of the jacket. Chris and her having had the tradition for many years though Claire started it.

She went over to a table and sat down to wait for the man, just guessing he would walk up to her. Claire ordered coffee after a while, bored from watching the door and checking the time on her phone every few seconds.

Around noon, Claire had stopped watching the door completely and was spinning her coffee around in the cup given to her.

The entrance's bell rang which made her look up. She spilled her cooled coffee across the table and onto the floor as she stood up. Shock and joy sprouted within her as she examined the man that was standing there. "Steve," she whispered, not even noticing that he seemed to be getting closer to her.

"Hey, beautiful," he flashed a goofy, but charming smile, "you didn't believe it was me?"

Claire just stood there agape, nothing coming out of her mouth until one of the employees walked over with a mop and towels.

"Excuse me," said the girl, obviously annoyed with mess Claire made.

Claire jumped back, "sorry, I didn't mean to . . . " she said quickly, "I'll clean it up, don't worry."

The girl raised a brow, skeptical about the offer, but nodded and handed her some cleaning supplies. "The manager'll get angry if I don't clean something up," she started mopping the linoleum floor.

"Sorry, Steve," Claire said quietly, not knowing what else to say as she wiped the red, square table off.

"It's fine," he said coolly, sitting in the chair that was opposite of hers.

Claire glanced up at him every once in a while, feeling uncomfortable with him staring at her. _It's like he's not even looking at me. I'm just being paranoid. _She shook her head to try and stop over thinking everything.

"Ahem," the employee had her hand out for the rag Claire was using. Claire handed it to her, having not realized the table was clean.

The girl went back to sitting behind the counter and reading a magazine.

"So," Claire looked at Steve, sitting down cautiously. "I thought you were dead."

"Well," he looked himself over, "do I look dead?" he chuckled.

"No, that's not what I meant and you know that," she crossed her arms. "How come you're back?"

He chuckled, "you want me dead?"

"I never said that!" she snapped and looked away.

"Then why aren't you happier to see me?" he leaned onto the table.

"I am happy," she mumbled, "but how did you?"

"How did I what?" he sounded amused.

"How are you alive?" she rephrased even though it felt kind of silly to say it like that.

"That's not something I can talk about here, let's save that for another time," he seemed to not want to talk about it at all. "So how are you?"

"Well I'm fine," she looked away and stood up. "You know, I should get going. Bye," she started to walk toward the door.

He stood up after her, "wait, we just got here," he grabbed her arm, making her blush slightly.

"No, Steve. I really have to go," she pulled her arm away, running out of the café. She got only so far before Leon caught her.

"What happened?" he asked, his hand on his gun.

"N-nothing, let's go," Claire scurried to her car, leaving Leon there as she drove off. She couldn't think straight, just wanting to get home and sit in front of the T.V..

At home, she immediately bolted the door and sat on the couch, turning on the T.V. and trying to calm down.

_You know this is good. He didn't actually die. He loved you then, he should love you now. Why else would he call you? _Claire sighed at her thoughts, not even looking at the T.V., she was staring at the ceiling and listening to a man talk about something she felt was unimportant.

The phone rang and Claire covered her ears, getting tired of being called so much lately. It eventually went to the recording and whoever called started to leave a message.

"Call me," it was Steve who left his number, not saying anything before hanging up.

"Don't hold your breath," she muttered angrily though she wanted to, "Chris is coming," she remembered and went to make sure his room was ready as a precaution though she didn't know when he was coming.

While she was in the middle of cleaning, a knock came at the door. Clare pulled herself away from what she was doing and went to the door, first looking out the peep hole; it was Leon. She opened it, withholding a sigh, "hey, sorry about earlier."

He shook his head, "it's all right, let's talk."

She took a moment before nodding, "okay," she let him in, bolting the door once more and walking over to the couch quietly.

"I spoke to 'Steve'," Leon said, sitting on the couch and turning the T.V. off.

"Oh," she sat away from him.

"He said you guys knew each other from a long time ago, I don't believe it, but I thought I'd check with you before I did anything."

Claire's heart stopped for a moment, it taking a while for her to answer him. "Yeah. Remember the story of Rockfort Island? We met there, but he's supposed to be dead. He died right in front of me, Leon, but now he's here. It doesn't-" she looked down at her lap, stopping what she thought could have become a meaningless rant.

"It's okay . . ." he touched her arm, sounding concerned.

"Sorry," she said softly, "I need to be alone right now, is that okay? I've already wasted your time."

"That's not true," he sighed, "if you really want me to leave I will. It may be best if you stay away from Steve though. If he continues to contact you, call me." He stood and walked toward the door.

"I'll see you out," she quickly got up and stepped in front of him to open the door. He didn't complain.

"Just be careful," he told her before walking out.

"I will you big old worry wart," she teased, trying to lighten the mood around them, giving him a small smile.

Leon smiled back at her, "yeah, yeah," he then left her alone.

She stood there for a bit, shutting the door and leaning against it. Thinking of how she shouldn't let Steve's reappearance get to her.

The phone ended up ringing again and she jogged over to it, answering. "This is Claire."

"You didn't call me," was the immediate response.

"Steve! Just stop. . . I'm glad that you're alive, but I just need some time! Please. I got over your death and now . . ."

There wasn't an answer besides a dial tone.

"Steve?" she whispered, confused.


	3. Chapter Three

OKAY. I GOT IT DONE. After my procrastination powers activated and made me watch Overthegun on youtube play The House of the Dead 2 and Metal Gear Solid all the way through and then I tried to finish watching him play Silent Hill 2 but my friend stopped that and made me spend the night so I could help her rewrite her BillyXRebecca fanfic -_- I mainly watched T.V., played games, slept. She made my boyfriend go home earlay! D : Anyway, I THANK WITHIN TEMPTATION FOR THEIR MUSIC. THEN I THANK SHADOWLEGGY ON YOUTUBE FOR HER FANFLASHES. I was listening to Particle Man on her Silent Hill fanflash and her RE I Think I Love You! Ones yesterday and today. SOOOOoooo. I hope you enjoy this, this is longer than the other two chapters. I was seriously braindead and distracted. _ Thank you for reading! -dies-

* * *

A couple days had past since the meeting with Steve. Claire had programmed his phone number into her cell; she had looked at it more times than she could count, just debating whether or not to call. The last time he called was still on her mind though, eating away at all other thoughts. He had abruptly hung up and hadn't called back.

"May as well," she mumbled, getting up and walking over to her home phone, dialing the number she had memorized by then.

It was answered on the first ring, "I was wondering when you were gonna call," she could hear the grin in his voice.

"Yeah, well . . . I just wanted to see how you were doing. Nothing else," she lied.

"Really? Are you sure that's it?"

"Yeah, so how are you?"

"I'm doing great, how about you? I could come over and tell you some interesting stuff if you'll let me."

"I'm fine, thanks," she said, "there's really no need for you to come to my apartment."

"So you live in an apartment," he sounded pleased.

"Yeah, I do." _I thought he'd already know that._

"Can I come over? What's your address?" he continued.

"No, Steve. You can't come over."

"Fine, then come to my place," he pouted.

"Steve. I don't know. Why do you want to see me so bad?"

"I love you," was his unhesitating response, "let me come over."

Claire couldn't think of what to say, his words getting to her.

After a moment or so, "Claire, you still there?" Steve sounded a bit distressed.

"Y-yeah, I'm here," she stuttered, being pulled out of her thoughts, feeling confused and dizzy.

"C'mon, babe, what's your address?" his tone was almost smug now.

Claire sighed, taking another moment to decide, "all right, you can come over." She gave him her address, quickly hanging up afterward. "How'd he get my number and not my address?" she asked herself, sliding down the wall next to her phone.

Twenty minutes later there was a knock at the door. Claire took a few minutes to force herself up from the floor to stop the repeated beat of a fist; Claire hadn't moved since the phone call. She slowly walked to the door and opened it, revealing an impatient Steve.

"Hey," Steve grinned, already walking in, "almost thought you weren't going to let me in."

"Well you certainly knocked enough," she said sarcastically, moving so she wasn't run over, shutting the door afterward.

When she turned around, Steve had already made himself at home on the couch, flipping through the channels. She sighed and walked over to him, leaning over the back of the couch. "You know that's rude, right?"

He craned his neck and looked up at her, "nope. What's rude?" he asked innocently.

Claire rolled her eyes, "you're so lucky you're cute," she muttered under her breath, looking away from him.

"What's lucky?" he asked, apparently having not heard it all.

"Nothing," she walked around, sitting next to him, but not too close.

"So what's been going on with you?" Steve raised an eye brow, scooting as close as he could to her and putting his arm over her shoulders.

"I have a vacation, right on time for my brother to get home too," she answered quietly, "what about you? How did you . . . come back to life?"

Steve chuckled lightly, "it's a long story. It'd take too long for me to tell it."

She pouted, "you told me you'd tell me!" she looked at him, "I need to know."

"Maybe another time," he smiled at her, "I love you. Can't we just hang out today?"

Claire held her breath, blushing as she tried to comprehend those words once again, turning her head away from him.

"Hey, you okay?" he sounded concerned, leaning over her.

"Yeah, fine," she got up and walked to the middle of the room without another word.

There was silence for a while except for the T.V., some comedian, until Steve got up.

He walked over to her and put his hands around her waist, grabbing her right wrist and kissing the side of her head. "You're beautiful," he muttered in her ear.

"W-what?" she tried to pull away, but didn't try very hard; he didn't let go.

"You are. Same as nine years ago," he smiled, "but even better looking."

"Thanks?" she didn't look back at him, very wary of him though.

He chuckled, "you don't seem very enthusiastic about my compliments," he put his left hand under her jaw, turning her head toward him. Claire complied. He moved his face closer to her, being quite slow about it.

Claire's heart sped up, her instinct telling her to hit him. She was about to elbow him when he started laughing and let go of her, backing up and falling onto the couch.

"What's so funny?" she ordered, being very confused since she thought he was going to kiss her.

He just pointed at the T.V., the comedian being applauded at before starting another joke.

Claire felt degraded by his actions and walked off to her room, slamming the door and locking it. "Who does he think he is?" she muttered angrily, her cheeks flaring.

Claire sat on her bed, immediately pulling her ponytail out, she then slipped the hair tie over her left wrist, it feeling a bit loose from extensive use; she twirled it around in a circle as she tried to calm down.

Claire couldn't tell how many minutes had past when there was a soft knock at her door. "Claire?" Steve's voice was almost softer than his knock. "You okay?"

She held her breath, trying to decide whether to answer him or pretend she was napping.

Before she could make her decision, she heard his footsteps fade away. She quickly got up and ran to her door, unlocking it and opening it. She went into the living room to see that the T.V. was off and him exiting the apartment.

"You didn't have to leave," she whispered, walking over to the door and locking it though the thought of going after him crossed her mind. "He'll call," she told herself relaxing in front of the T.V..

A few more days had past when Chris called to tell her he'd be in on Thursday.

"Okay, Chris. Do I need to pick you up?" Claire tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice; Steve hadn't called since the day he came over.

"Nah, I can take a cab," he told her.

"It's no problem, Chris, really," she sighed, just wanting something to do.

"No, I'll be in real late and I have my key. Don't worry."

"Chris . . . " she tried to argue.

"Claire, we'll see each other the morning after. It'll be fine. I'll be too tired to talk when I get home anyway."

"Fine," she gave in, "just be careful on your way back and don't get lost."

Chris chuckled, "all right, I'll try not to. Bye, I'll see you in a couple days."

"Bye . . . " she waited for him to hang up before doing so herself. "I should take the trash out," she remembered and slipped on some sandals she used just to step outside. She then pulled the trash out of the can under the sink and tied it, carrying it outside of her apartment to the larger dumpster.

Claire threw the white bag of trash into it, glancing down the alleyway that she was in out of habit, she was surprised to see a dark figure down it, "hey! What are you doing here?" she ordered, only getting a deep chuckle out of the person. She felt a shiver run up her spine, the voice seeming eerily familiar.

The man was tall. Taller than Chris. He had broad shoulders, but that was just about all she could she could see of his outline, his dark clothes hid him well in the shadows. He turned, the other way, his blonde, slicked back hair standing out.

"Wait!" she started to run after him once he started walking, but he disappeared.

_That couldn't have been_- She surveyed the area for a good twenty minutes for clues, finding none.

Claire went back inside, checking her mail first and then heading to her apartment. She locked the door and then checked to make sure the windows were locked as well.

She then went about doing her usual things, making dinner for herself and taking a shower. Claire continued to expect a call from Steve, wondering if he was upset at her, or thought she was mad at him. "You shouldn't worry," she told herself, "Chris is coming." _Everything will be back to normal if he doesn't call._

Wednesday, she got a call on her cell, not looking at the ID, she answered, having kept it on her more recently.

"Chris?" she assumed it was him calling about tomorrow.

"I'm not your brother," Steve chuckled.

"Steve? How'd you get my cellphone number?" her voice was choked up.

"I have my ways, Claire. Is it okay if I call you on it?"

"I suppose . . ."

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why?"

"You got angry all of a sudden the other day."

"I wasn't angry," she lied. _It wasn't "all of a sudden."_

"Then why'd you run off?"

"I was getting something. Why didn't you call sooner?"

"I was waiting for you to call."

Claire was thinking of what she should say, her mind was a blank.

"You there?" Steve asked after a few seconds.

"Y-yeah."

"Since you didn't call, I decided to call. I thought you might be upset with me."

"Why would I? You didn't exactly do anything that bad." _Just tease the hell out of me._

"Good, well I'm coming over again," he stated, "see you soon!" he hung up.

"Wait! Steve!" she was stunned, flipping her phone shut and shoving it in her pocket.


	4. Chapter Four

HERE YOU ARE. I FINALLY FINISHED IT! _ I partly didn't cause I was moving in with my father and lost motive...Most of this has been done since September...? More than likely. I just finally...wrote the rest that made it partly more finished. I need to catch up...with this and my school grades (I'm lazy)...and now my commissions on gaia. The two new fics I put up on here were for gaiaonline commissions. I need to branch out...and having others ideas makes it easier, but then again harder, because I'm trying to at least satisfy one person in particular. _ It works well enough I suppose. I hope you all enjoy this one enough though it sucks and I know it. Ladidadida...I'll try to get the next one up soon. I'm keeping RM's POV 3rd person limited and with only the Redfields if I can help it.

Anyway, signing off now! Sorry for dropping out for a long time.

* * *

Claire waited at the door, looking out of the peep hole.

_I didn't even give him permission!_ She thought angrily even though part of her wanted to see him. She pulled out her phone every few minutes and checked the time, wondering when he would arrive, all of her thoughts about Chris' arrival the next day out of her mind.

There was a knock at the door when Claire was checking the time on her cell again. She looked through the peep hole once again and let out a squeak, Steve's eye being right there.

She opened the door, recomposing herself. "You didn't even ask to come over," she scolded quickly with a harsh tone.

"Sorry," he grinned apologetically, "I wanted to see you."

Claire tried not to let her frown dissipate, wanting to forgive him. "Well get in here," she told him, sounding frustrated, though more at herself.

Steve happily conformed to this and walked over to the couch, flopping down and taking the remote from the middle cushion.

Claire shut the door and locked it, walking over to the couch as well and sitting next to him. "So, what were you planning?" she asked accusingly.

"Huh?" Steve looked at her; he was leaning against the left arm rest, having apparently been entranced by the TV.

"When you decided to come over, you said you wanted to see me, but what did you think we were going to do?"

He shrugged uncaringly, "nothing really. Watch TV?"

She frowned, "that didn't seem to be your intention last time," she mumbled.

"What?" he asked, appearing to have not heard her.

"Nothing," she scooted away, leaning on the right arm rest.

"No, what did you say?" he sat upright, sliding across the middle cushion toward her.

"You must have been hearing things, I didn't say anything," she lied, her voice monotone, glancing at him with her peripheral vision, trying to look as though she was watching the show, though she didn't care for.

"Really?" he kissed the side of her head, which made her fluff up like a cat. Claire glared at him, standing, and made her way to the kitchen, she noticed however that he was following her.

"Steve, what are you doing?" she turned on him, crossing her arms in frustration.

"Trying to please you," he pouted, "it doesn't seem to be working…"

She kept her arms folded, staring him down. "You're lying. You don't really want to pl . . ."

She was interrupted, "I'm not lying," he said moving close and hugging her quickly. "I love you."

Claire froze, her lips parted slightly in fright. _He said it again. He said that he loved me. He must be lying. _She tried to push him, remembering the Steve she once knew, so very confused by everything.

Claire was sitting next to Steve, telling him that everything would be okay, that Chris would save them. Steve was pale and sitting against the wall under a card reader she had used to get into see him.

"I love you . . ." he had said, touching her cheek, "you're so warm."

She started bawling, not knowing what else to do. Nineteen and having just started college, having went through what seemed like a nightmare that had led to Raccoon City's destruction; finding out the truth about what had seemed to be an ordinary pharmaceutical company.

She was tired. Tired of seeming strong - seeing Steve's hands go limp in hers; his eyes closing as the warmth left his skin. It didn't seem fair. None of it seemed right and it made her feel helpless. All she had wanted was to see her brother, and yet, she got him into trouble that he may not have run into if not for her selfish wish to not be alone. It had to be a dream . . . Rockfort. Antarctica. . . .

"Claire? What's wrong?" Steve asked.

"Nothing, I want a drink," she pulled away from him and started back to the kitchen, pulling a cup out of the cupboard and getting a thing of ice tea out, pouring it into the glass and adding bits of ice from the freezer. She turned and saw him staring at her, "Steve. Go sit down," she ordered, getting irritated by his behavior, all in all.

Steve shrugged, smirking, and sitting right down where he was at. He was stifling laughter as he looked up at her.

Claire felt astonishment, then mild anger at his childish behavior. She stormed past him, almost tripping over him, but made it, only spilling a little of her drink. She ignored it though and sat on the couch, flipping through the channels and sipping at the tea.

Steve had walked up behind her again, leaning over the couch, being awfully close to her ear, she could hear him breathing softly.

"Do you have to be RIGHT THERE?" Claire turned her head toward him, a frightened look on her face which was odd considering her tone of voice.

Steve then frowned, standing up straight, turning his back, slowly crouching, and leaning against the back of the couch. He mumbled something incoherent.

"What?" Claire asked, relaxing some and looking over the couch at the top of his head.

"I said I was…" the last part was incoherent again.

"I still can't hear you," she poked the top of his head.

"I said I was sorry!" he looked up, yelling. Banging could be heard from the next apartment over, someone yelling back at them to shut up.

"Okay," she blinked, "I…forgive you. Please don't yell though…" she turned back around to watch TV, a bit flustered still. _He was quick to apologize…_

The two then sat with an eerie silence between them, the TV muttering lowly at them as if to try to force them to speak to one another. However, the silence held on, Claire feeling awkward and not knowing what to say – at least not knowing if what she wanted to say was _appropriate_ for the mood.

"Can I spend the night here?" Steve muttered after a bit. "Please? I don't want to go home."

"No, my brother's coming home tonight," she told him after hesitating.

"Are you afraid of what he'll think?"

"No…I just…he's coming home and I haven't seen him in what seems like forever. I want to spend some time alone with him."

"I won't bother you two…I just don't want to go home, and there's no where else for me to go. Please, Claire?"

She paused, biting her lip as she fought herself on her answer. Finally giving in, she said, "yes…but you get the couch, no exceptions. And don't you dare come into my room, you don't cook anything either. I don't want you starting a fire. You can watch TV though, you can't bother Chris either, and he'll be tired when he gets here."

"Thanks," she heard from behind her, it being a whisper.

Not much else happened that evening, the two eating spaghetti that Claire had cooked and watching TV without much chit chat besides a few trinkets of commentary on something that happened in a show ever once in a while.

"Chris will just let himself in, all right?" Claire told Steve once she got ready for bed, being quite tired. "I've left a note for him on that side table over by the door, but knowing him I doubt he'll notice it. So be careful not to get on his bad side," she wagged her finger at him, "if anything, I'll get up and clear the situation up, but I hope you can take care of it, all right?"

He nodded, giving her a thumbs up, "I can do it, you won't see me crying uncle!" he grinned at her.

_You better not now that you've said that._ She smiled slightly and went to bed, hoping the best for him, knowing her brother that is.


	5. Chapter Five

HERE WE GO. 2000 WORDS OF OUR FAVORITE, MOST RETARDED, DERPY, CHRIS REDFIELD! I love Chris...my Chris muse is such a tard...it's adorable...at least to my bff who loves him and to me. :3 FIRST CHAPTER THAT'S A BIT OVER 2000 WORDS All the others for RM is between 1,100 and 1,800. XD; While my oneshots seem to like being 3000 words or so except the D. one...cause there really wasn't much I could do with that one owo;

Anyway, enjoy our favorite retard. : P Next will be Claire POV again.

* * *

It had started to pour rain outside by the time the cab came. Loading in his luggage wasn't too bad, but then again he was too tired to care, having been unable to fall asleep in the plane.

_I'll be home soon,_ Chris thought to himself, smiling slightly, _it's been so long…I get to see Claire again…_

He watched the rain outside, bored and falling asleep as the lights from the streets moved by, his vision of them diluted by the droplets on the window. It was really just another night of traveling, but with something to look forward to.

"Sir, we're here," the cabby man said, his tone less polite than the words would more usually invite. Chris woke up with a start, having been on the verge of dozing.

"Thanks," he replied, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and yawning as he got out, getting his stuff from the trunk. He then paid the man and went into the apartment building, fishing his key out on the way. He looked at the halls along the way, the fluorescent lights dim; he supposed they needed changing.

_Were the walls always this color?_ He thought, seeing the sickening yellow that dabbled along the corridor as he stopped in front of his room. He sighed, unlocking the door and going inside. He tried to be quiet, even when he heard the TV and it's chattering.

He wandered past the couch and to his room which was right across from Claire's, the bathroom door squeezed in between. The TV could still be heard in his room, it being up against the wall parallel to his. He hadn't spared the couch an actual glance yet, but assumed Claire had fallen asleep. He put his stuff away first, taking off his shoes and changing into a fitting white tank that just barely covered his muscles, and shorts before going back out into the living room to at least shut the TV off.

He treaded softly across the carpet in his socks, leaning over to shut the TV off, he glanced at the couch, he froze stiff, seeing the form of a man laying on his sofa, his eyes closed and looking comfortable. He hardly had time to think as his emotions caught hold of him, forgetting about the TV he went over to the couch in a fit of rage and picked the strange man up by the collar of his shirt.

The brunette haired stranger immediately woke up, the air knocked out of him before Chris threw him back onto the couch. "Who are you?!" Chris ordered, holding him down, no real thoughts going through his head about anything.

"So you're Chris," the pinned man winced, "she was right, you ignored the note she left by the door."

"I _asked_ who you _were_!" Chris ignored his statements, irritated at how he knew his name.

"A visitor in your humble abode," he replied snidely, sitting there calmly.

Chris heard a door open behind him a few moments later as he was getting ready to speak, a voice along with it. "Chris! ...Let him go!" he could recognize her voice at anytime, especially when she was mad herself. He obediently let him go and backed up, his face flushed as he thought over the situation.

_So she knows him…who is he to her? Why hasn't she told me about anyone? Are they dating?! What the HELL?! _He started to get frantic, completely ignoring Claire's scolding.

"CHRIS!" Claire pulled on his ear, _hard_, "Snap out of it! This is _Steve._ Now apologize," she ordered, making him wince by how sharp and high her voice went; a lot higher than usual.

"Sorry," he muttered, pulling away from Claire and holding his assaulted ear, feeling how hot it was from the attack.

Steve nodded vaguely at him, but he didn't see the gesture, instead looking up at the ceiling most casually, pouting silently to himself.

Claire huffed from beside him, it wasn't the happiest reunion ever, and granted, Chris did do something to upset her. Claire then tugged on his arm, pulling his toward their rooms, "go to bed," she murmured under her breath. "We'll talk more in the morning. Steve's sleeping on the couch, so just leave him alone. I've instructed him not to use the kitchen or come into our rooms."

_That's not the problem_, he frowned as he was shoved into his room, the door all but slammed shut behind him. _I'm the oldest, don't I have a say? Or even the right to know what in heaven's name is going on?_ He complained silently in his head, crawling into bed and covering himself halfway with his bedding. It was his favorite green set, he certainly didn't care for Claire's flowers and hot pink sheets and blankets, instead having a couple of his own sets in his closet which Claire seemed to change out whenever he left, the bed being blue, green, or white whenever he came back. Last time was blue.

He ended up staring at the ceiling for what seemed to be a good, solid hour of darkness and cars out of the street. He had forgotten what it was like to live in a big city; cars always on the go, what it was like to sleep in a room by himself, seeing as most of the time he shared a room with other guys. It was comforting, yet unnerving to be alone, what with all the things he'd seen in his life. The B.S.A.A. was certainly no cake walk, the missions tended to be hard on him, and got harder the more he aged. He knew it was coming to an end; trying to rid the world of Umbrella's mess, and others as well. Killing monsters and resisting death seemed to be the only thing he was good at anymore.

He fell asleep to his thoughts, soon having a dream about Africa. He had finished the job a few months past, the only thing stopping him from coming home afterward were a few injuries he'd gotten as well as formalities.

Chris was watching Wesker from behind a wall, his enemy saying something about not having much time before he had to go. One minute, he was there…then he disappeared, Chris being constrained afterward, his mouth covered.

"Let's play a game," Wesker whispered in his ear, he could feel the warm grasp of his hands on his arms even though he struggled to get away. He then felt a pain on his ear.

Chris woke up in a cold sweat, sitting up straight; he felt a cool breeze fly in from the window. He then touched his ear that physically hurt, _what the…it was just a dream…I don't usually…why is the window open?_ It had stopped raining, but the damp, humid air was unbarring; so he got up to shut the window. _I can't believe I dreamed up something like that either. I don't get it._ He frowned when his foot got soaked through beside his bed, grimacing, he sat back down and pulled both socks off, throwing them across the room, getting up once more while trying to avoid wet spots that were oddly placed; however, he tried to think nothing of it.

After the window was shut and locked, he glanced outside to look at the alley, it looked as though it was almost flooded, but of course it was too dark to actually tell. He sighed, glancing across the way at the other apartments; a couple lights were on even though it must have been almost dawn. He shook his head, heading to the bathroom, quickly doing his business and washing his face.

Once back in bed, he tried to get comfortable, tossing and turning uncomfortably on the mattress. It was hardly used, though he still felt like it was time for a new one, or maybe one that had already been broken in entirely.

Not too much later did Chris notice that the TV in the living room had been shut off, and the voice he was hearing out there was someone who was physically in the room.

_That Steve kid…He couldn't be talking to anyone. Not now, and not this late._ He got up once again and went to the door, opening it a crack to listen better. It was only a whisper, but loud enough for him to make out. Peeking out, he saw that he was on the phone. _Who's seriously up this late?_ His thoughts started churning, so much that he wasn't doing what he wanted to do – eaves drop. _Shut up,_ he told himself then, scolding himself enough to open his ears, catching a bit of the conversation.

"No, I'm going to try and stay here a few days…get to know them," Steve paused, "I'll be back, I just want to…Albert…! I…!" he sighed, "fine, forget it. You get him yourself." He flipped the phone shut and started back for the couch, having been pacing the living room carpet down to the wood. Chris quickly retreated back into his room before he was spotted, shutting the door as silently as he could.

_Albert…_ he leaned against his door, _that can't be Wesker. He fell in a volcano. _He sighed, shook his head at the thought, and went back to bed to try and get more sleep; he just barely avoided the wet spots on the carpet.

The smell of coffee wafted into the room, waffles right behind it. Chris drooled a little, the two components entering his dream as his stomach called out to him to get up. It was only in the back of his mind though that he wasn't actually eating, that it was only a dream and that he needed to get up. He heard a door open, glancing around in his dream, setting the fork down, wondering who it could be. He didn't see anybody behind him, so he turned back to his food, jumping when he heard his name and saw Claire.

He woke with a start, hearing his name again, "Chris, breakfast," Claire rolled her eyes at him.

"Huh? Oh thanks," he sighed, looking down at his pillow which had a small wet spot. He touched his chin, wiping off the cold saliva that had gathered there as well, feeling slightly embarrassed. "I'll be out in a minute, let me get dressed."

"Yeah, yeah," she kissed her brother on the forehead, "you'd have slept all day if I wasn't here. It's almost eleven; I put off breakfast till now in hopes you'd wake up on your own earlier, so get your lazy ass up," she smiled at him, obviously teasing him as she walked back out and shut the door.

He took his sweet time getting dressed, his stomach complaining the entire time, the smell from the kitchenette seeming to get stronger as time passed. He went to the backroom first though, wetting his hair and smoothing it. He'd stopped spiking it up for the last couple of years, seeing as it took him a while to do so sometimes. Claire had always complained that he was acting like a girl too when he had. He sighed at the memories, they were so small and probably insignificant, but he enjoyed them. He opened the medicine cabinet and brushed his teeth also, it coming to mind.

"Finally," Claire grinned at him when he walked into the living room, "go fix yourself a plate." He nodded at her, glancing at Steve who was staring at the TV boredly, not even glancing his way. In the back of his mind he felt an irritation at being ignored, but didn't give hint to it externally, quickly going to get himself his own plate of waffles.

He decidedly ate in the kitchen, not really wanting to be in the same room with Steve. He felt as if something was very wrong about him. _Maybe it's my imagination. Last night…maybe it was all just a dream too…I dreamed I woke from a dream…that ought to be it. Besides, Wesker's dead, I just want him to be in the same league as Wesker…Steve…what's his last name…? Wasn't there…no…he died also. Maybe Claire's using him...still not over him. _He didn't notice the mess he had made while eating, having got a ton of syrup on the front of his shirt, even after he was done and rinsed his plate, he was oblivious to the condition of his clothing.

He walked back out into the living room, walking and standing behind the couch to see what they were watching.

"Hey, Chris, get enough to eat?" his sister turned around looking up at him expectantly.

He nodded, "yup, it was good."

She glanced over him, "I see, you got it all over your shirt," she frowned a little, making him feel like she was upset with him.

"Oh…" he chuckled a little to try and lighten her up, "I'll go change…and take a shower while I'm at it." He quickly left at that.


	6. Chapter Six

YEAH. I GOT UP ANOTHER CHAPTER...SORRY FOR BEING SO LAZY...Right now I've gotten back into Pokemon 3 I got SoulSilver and HeartGold the first day they came out and I'm HAPPY. It's so awesome. ANYWAY. I sorta lied...It has Claire POV...buuuuut...more Chris...I COULDN'T THINK OF ANYTHING WITH CLAIRE -sobs- Chris and Steve share some retarded lines in this too. Anyway, enjoy since I finally did something...AGH...I have to take the ACT this saturday T~T Next Wednesday is contest too. I'm in choir and we get to be rated by judges...OH JOY. GETTING UP AND GETTING TO SCHOOL AT 7 AND RIDING A BUS FOR AN HOUR AND SINGING...AND...Well missing some usual school...BUT...yeah...enjoy and I'll shut up now.

* * *

Claire sighed as she watched her ridiculous older sibling rush off to shower, _boys,_ she thought, glancing over at Steve. "Sorry about him," she whispered, quickly changing her vision to the T.V. screen.

"Nah, this is fun," Steve replied just as quietly, seemingly amused by the entire thing though he almost got his lights punched out the night before.

She shook her head, glancing at the bathroom when she heard the water running. _He must be really tired…_She got up to fix the apartment up, mainly the kitchenette. Her mind was running over all possible scenarios that could have gone better last night, and scenarios that would make the situation now better than it was. She knew Chris didn't, and wouldn't, feel comfortable with Steve for a while. _Something has to be done…Steve has to be the same as before…even if I don't know what happened after all this time. I should get them to go out and spend some guy time together. They'd probably like each other. Maybe… _She sighed as she scrubbed a plate of the sticky syrup that clung to it.

Steve wandered in about the time she'd finished, searching the cabinets for something.

"What are you doing?" she frowned, flustered by his flitting around.

"Trying to get a glass of water," he stated, finding the cups and getting one, reaching around her for the tap.

"Mm, you could have just asked," she mumbled in a low monotone. He didn't respond, fetching ice from the freezer afterward and heading back into the living room. She soon followed after him, seeing that Chris was out there on the couch also, sitting as far away as he could from Steve, his hair almost black in color from his shower.

Claire flopped down between the two, "you two should go to the store or something," she stated before she had time to back out.

"What?" Chris immediately turned to look at her, his expression and body gesture screaming out that he was offended by the mere thought of it.

"Sounds good to me," Steve's seemed unbothered by it, a light smile playing at his lips thoughtfully. "I do plan on being around for _quite_ a while."

Chris frowned at him then, glancing at Claire, "we'll see," he muttered.

She sighed, seeing Chris turn back to the T.V., she looked at Steve, who was smiling cheerfully at her, almost jester-like. She couldn't help but smile back, wanting to feel better since her brother disapproved so much.

The next few days went on with many rude comments and timid hatred; Claire being in the middle with no knowledge of how to fix it.

"Let's take up her suggestion," Steve told Chris when Claire had gone to get groceries a half hour earlier.

"What?" Chris didn't spare him a look, attempting to turn the volume of the television up.

"Let's go do some male bonding tonight, maybe go to the bar, what do ya say? Truce?" he extended his hand across the length of the couch.

Chris scoffed at this proposition. _He's got to be kidding. Spend time with him? This is my only time off._ "When it rains cats and dogs," he said sarcastically, hoping to shut him up.

"Suppose to be a storm tonight, whether it rains cats and dogs or not, the expression will stand."

"You know what I mean though."

"But we should make Claire happy, and going out in an attempt to be friends will indeed do that," his hand was still extended in coy friendship.

"You look stupid, and we'll see."

Steve's smile turned down, his arm lowering with it, "that's usually an answer for 'no'."

"Well maybe 'no' is my answer, ever think of that? Go find someone else to play games with. I know you're only out to hurt my sister."

Steve chuckled amusedly, "you just think you know everything? You have no idea. I love Claire, I can tell you that. You can believe me or not, it's not like I care. She trusts me."

Chris paused for a moment, thinking of what to say, and right before he was about to, the door opened, Claire carrying in a few large bags, fumbling with her keys. A lighter looking bag was balancing on her uplifted knee, two in her left hand, and one in her right with her keys.

Steve had zipped right up to help her. Chris' reaction time behind his, the younger boy was already at the door and helping her with food. In the back of his mind, Chris thought he looked like a puppy whose owner just came home, and he was trying to please her. He watched the two head into the kitchen, following after them. Just as he entered, he heard Steve's excited voice.

"Claire, guess what!" he grinned, bangs in his face as he stared at her putting the food in the fridge.

"…What is it?" she glanced back at him, seeming unsure about what it may be.

"Me and Chris are going out tonight, we thought it might be nice to get to know each other." He grinned at her, glancing back at Chris, giving him the sense that he was conniving against him.

"Really?" Claire smiled at them, putting the rest away, her ponytail swinging around.

_I can't believe he just did that. _Chris was standing to the spot, frozen in his thoughts. _Do I really have to go out with him tonight? That…that doesn't sound right… _He started to think of an excuse that he could use later, like a stomach ache or something.

"Chris?" Claire was staring up at him, waving her hand in front of his face, "hello? Earth to Chris, you need to move." He jumped back, startled out of his daze, flushing as he noticed both of them were staring at him funny.

"S-sorry, I…I was thinking…" he quickly told them, smiling as he turned around and went to sit on the couch, checking the time while he was at it.

"Yeah…okay…anyway, I think it's great you two are going to hang out to tonight," she sat beside him a moment later, leaning against him like a pillow.

Chris coughed a vague agreement at her, feeling put on the spot now.

"Is something wrong…?" she asked after a moment, looking up at him with huge eyes, telling him of the curiosity she felt.

"I'm just hungry, what's for dinner?" he quickly made up, trying to avoid her gaze, not really paying attention when she told him. He rather glanced over her head at Steve who was smiling cunningly, catching his gaze. Chris reverted his sight back to the T.V., flushing from embarrassment and slight anger that had started to pent up ever since he got there.

"All right…" she still seemed suspicious of him, "we're just having hamburgers and a salad. You have to eat _something_ that's healthy once in a while!"

"Yeah, yeah," he murmured, wanting a steak with the hamburger rather than the salad.  
"And you two can go out after that, okay? I don't want either of you ruining your appetites or not getting anything to eat," she continued.

"You sound like my mother, not my baby sister," Chris rolled his eyes.

Claire stared at him for a moment as if she were thinking of something before looking down. "Someone has to," he heard her whisper.

"Claire...I didn't…I didn't mean…" Chris was flustered, knowing how upset it made her usually when their parents were mentioned.

"It's all right…they're dead and that can't change," she got up and went to her room, slamming it.

"Woah…what's that all about?" Steve glanced over at Chris.

"Our parents died in a car crash, end of story," he muttered, running his hand through his hair and getting up, going to his room to pace.


	7. Chapter Seven

I promise that one scene, that that will be the only one of it's kind unless I get quite a few requests wanting more. I'm not too keen on my ability to dish that kind of scene out. I also don't want people turned off from this because there will be more ClaireXSteve, I'm just trying to forward the plot and this has been my initial thought since ANM, so please bear with me. I also gave 2,000 some words since I haven't updated in a while. I need to finish a few commissions, but I'm going to try and get the next chaper up soon which I'm planning on being more about Claire and Steve. Also when this entire fanfiction is done and I do get enough requests, I'll try my hand at just an extra chapter for the scene in this, but that's the only thing I'd be doing for it. And sorry I'm trying not to give it away cause I don't want to do a footer note. Review and favorite if you like it please, at least review. Though I'd like to know if I could do anything better, I'm also thinking I should rewrite previous chapters.

I'm also going to be babysitting a lot, so it's hard to write when I'm doing that, and then hanging out with people and school's coming up. Thank you if you've read up to this far. 3

* * *

Chris sat on his bed, shaking his head as he tried to clear his mind. He knew he should go and comfort Claire and apologize. It was so silly of her to even get upset over his stupid comment; but he knew she wasn't over their parent's deaths.

"Shit!" he muttered, lying back on the comforter, the bed still in a mess from the night before. Of course making the bed had never been one of his priorities-not like making his sister happy was to him.

"Maybe . . ." he hit his head with the palm of his hand; not liking the thought, but maybe . . . just maybe being "friends" with _him_ would cheer her up. He got back up at the thought, going back out into the living. First he looked around to see if Claire had come back out through his doubts. Seeing she hadn't, he walked over to Steve who was just sitting on the couch and staring dully at the T.V.

"Hey, help me cheer Claire up," he sat down beside him, gritting his teeth.

"I thought you didn't want anything to do with me," Steve didn't even glance at him, yawning as the show went to commercial.

"I don't, but I think if we pretend to be friends . . ."

"Nope," Steve smirked, getting up and walking to Claire's room, knocking on the door. "It's me, will you let me in?" There was no immediate response, but the longer he stood there, tapping lightly on the wooden blockade, the door finally cracked open slightly. Light words were exchanged before Claire allowed Steve inside, shutting the door and locking it behind them.

This left Chris dumbfounded and a little angry, running a hand through his hair he got up again, putting his shoes on and getting his jacket. He made sure he had his keys and wallet before quickly fleeing the apartment.

"Steve, I just don't know . . ." Claire muttered, hugging her pillow, "I haven't seen Chris in a long time and then we blow up at each other . . . it's not usual."

"You must just be anxious," Steve smiled, scooting closer to her offering his hand to her. He glanced back at the door when she took it, "I wonder if your brother's okay? He seemed pretty upset after you came in here . . . want me to talk to him?" he looked back at her, staring into her eyes questioningly.

"Um . . . well," she blushed, looking away from him, gripping his hand tightly, "could you just get him to come into my room? I want to talk to him and let him know I'm okay. Okay?"

"Yeah, all right," he leaned over and kissed her cheek, forcing her to let go of his hand as he exited the room. Claire waited for Chris to walk through the door, flustered and her mind racing about what she was going to say. Mostly she was embarrassed about how she acted, 30 and acting like a kid. Too much was happening at once with Steve back after he died . . . since Chris didn't want to accept Steve.

She jumped when the door opened, it being Steve again. "Where's Chris?" she asked, trying to see behind him as he shut the door.

"Yeah . . . he doesn't seem to be here. He didn't leave a note anywhere from what I can see either."

"What? He wouldn't just do that!" she got up, shoving him out of the way and opening the door again, being stopped by Steve.

"He's not there, Claire! He could be anywhere!" he pulled her away by her arm, shutting the door again before holding her tightly. "He'll come back, where else does he have to go?" Steve tried to comfort her, rubbing her back.

"Let me go!" Claire struggled, "he's going to disappear again! He always disappeared! YOU DISAPPEARED," she scowled, pushing him away. "You went and _died_! And-and I know you're just going to disappear again! I just need to get back to work, I need to help get rid of the bioterrorism and every last trace of Umbrella and whatever is threatening us now. They took my brother away from me once!" she escaped his grasp, hitting him with the door. Claire ran as fast as she could through the living room, just barely grabbing her shoes along the way as she hit the entryway, running out into the hall.

Claire had made it a couple blocks away, breathing heavily as she glanced back for Steve, "gotta find Chris . . ." she started walking for a while, trying to think of where he might go. "Maybe he's at Jill's? Didn't they both come back?" she mumbled to herself.

She headed off to Jill's, not bothering to get a cab. It was getting dark out as soon as she reached the apartment complex; she hurried up to the room, quickly knocking on the door, and waiting, not so patiently.

The door opened after a few minutes, a surprised Jill standing there in a robe, "Claire? What's wrong?" she asked, glancing behind her.

"I'm looking for Chris, is he here?" she tried looking around Jill, obviously anxious.

"Sorry, I haven't seen him," Jill sighed, blocking her way, "I'm a little . . . busy right now. I'll call you if I see him, all right?"

"Jill, come on!" a man's voice was heard farther back.

"Hold on! I'm coming!" she flushed, rolling her eyes, "sorry, Claire." The door closed and the click of a lock could be heard on the other side.

Claire let out a long sigh, pushing her bangs back as she stared at the door for a moment. She forced herself to leave, not sure where to look for Chris, she didn't just want to wait at home for him, so she went out in search for him; racking her brain for clubs or bars, though she never saw him as the guy who poured a glass every time something went wrong.

Then an idea hit her. There was still Rebecca's house-maybe even Leon's-it was worth a look.

Chris was sitting on a bench and watching the trees. "This wasn't how I thought it'd be . . ." He was sitting in a park, some equipment set up for kid's to play on nearby; a couple swing sets, monkey bars, all that jazz. It was too dark for any kids to be around, and it didn't seem like anyone else had thought the park a good place to hang out at the moment.

Chris flinched when a tree branch snapped, standing and looking around the foliage. He turned his back for a moment, grunting when a cloth was forced over his mouth and he was being held onto tightly. He struggled for a moment before losing consciousness due to the chemical on the cloth.

Claire had searched everywhere by the end of the night, heading home in hopes Chris had come back. She hurried inside the apartment, "Chris?" she called worriedly, but there was no answer from anywhere, so she wandered in, looking in each room and finding nothing, not even Steve was present.

"Where did he go?" she murmured, having figured he'd still be there, "Steve, maybe it was too good to be true. . ." She walked over to her couch, finding the remote peeking out of the cushions. She moved it to the side table to the right, sitting down with her knees curled up to her chest. "They'll be back," she told herself, despite the voice in the back of her mind telling her that there was something more to this, as well as Steve's return; whether she wanted to admit it or not.

Chris opened his eyes, he could still smell the lingering chloroform from the cloth, feel the hands that held him down as he fainted. He sighed, sitting up on the bed as he looked at the dark room. Computer lights were the only thing that caught his eyes until he noticed how his left ankle was cuffed to what seemed to be a sturdy metal bar.

"So, you're awake?" a man's voice came from behind the leather chair that sat in front of the many luminescent screens that showed video, data, and pictures. A few of the screens caught Chris' eyes; one being a video of him and Claire, and another couple being him on missions. "Do you know why you're here, Christopher?" he questioned, a small hint of a smirk tainting his usual monotone of a voice.

"Not exactly, but I do know that you're a damned stalker," he hissed, messing with the handcuff to see if he could figure a way out. _Damn it, I'd know that voice anywhere . . . ._

"Stalker, hmm; I know you detest me, but that just wounds me," his smooth voice cooed as he swiveled to face him. "But it does look like my monkey stirred up a bit of trouble, considering the little argument you had with your dear sister. Really, family should stick together, though as hard headed as you are-" he chuckled, getting up and walking over to Chris, his face was pale and hard to see, his whole body more of a silhouette against the bright screens that flickered different colors. One thing about him was very obvious sunglasses and blonde, slicked back hair.

"Stay back!" Chris yelled, almost seeming like he was trying to look bigger with his body language.

"Now why would I do that?" he grabbed Chris' large jaw bone roughly, pushing him back onto the bed, "toys don't talk back to their masters," a slight smirk was on his face as he seemingly stared into Chris' eyes. Chris felt angry and overwhelmed, it was one thing when Wesker was choking him in the midst of battle, but now to be staring him in the face in Wesker's very own territory; captured by his lifelong enemy.

A door opened a few feet from them, and Chris did his best to look over, his head still being held in place. He immediately recognized him when the man there came closer, "Steve…" he squirmed.

"Wesker, shouldn't you be attending to other stuff by now? We should put him in that room you prepared now that he's awake," Steve sounded a little scared, not looking at either of them.

Wesker didn't seem to spare a glance at Steve, instead he tightened his grip on Chris, seeming to be calculating things as he slowly got on the bed and hovered above him.

Chris shut his eyes at the pain and how utterly discomforting the situation was, just what was he trying to do? He then attempted to knee him in the groin with his free leg, but it was caught by Wesker and thrust back down. "Be a good boy," he let go of his face, straddling and capturing both of his hands, a demented look now in place.

"Get off a me you bastard!" Chris continued to struggle, not getting anywhere. Chris had never encountered this before, normally someone would have saved him by then or something would have distracted Wesker; but this time it seemed as if nothing of the sort would happen, as for even Steve slunk out of the room, not willing to stand up to the man.

"You still don't know your place, do you?" Wesker grinned devilishly, "of course the only reason I've kept you alive is so I can teach you your place." He brought out a knife out of his pocket and easily flipped it open; he let it waver over Chris' face before sliding it down Chris' shirt.

Chris stopped struggling, watching the sharp knife cut through the fabric. He bit his chapped lips in a flight of anxious worry, he didn't stop even when he tasted blood, the taste distinct on his tongue; and apparently the color was as well, for Wesker had stopped cutting, having just reached his naval.

"Oh, what could this be?" he stretched himself out further, admiring Chris' face with fiendish delight, "blood," he licked some of the red stain off of his chin, leaving Chris cringing in disgust as he turned his head away, forcing himself to stop biting himself and nurse it instead.

_Damn it,_ Chris thought, repulsed by the position he was forced into, the entire situation was in Wesker's favor.

"Have you had enough already? I haven't even gotten to the good part," Wesker whispered smoothly in his ear, nipping at his lobe.

_SHIT, SHIT, SHIT,_ Chris started to struggle again, hitting his head against Wesker's and knocking the man's sunglasses askew.

The man frowned down at him; his cat like eyes glowing in the dark, "I was going easy on you too," Wesker strengthened his grip on Chris' wrists, grinning again when he saw him cringe. He used his other hand to unzip Chris' pants, the shifting in weight letting Chris know where the knife had gone; the cold steel was against an exposed part of his side, his shirt having come un-tucked at some point.

It had been a few hours before Chris was finally left alone, having been shoved into a bright, all white room; the door leading into the hall was locked, so he had no way out. He only had his pants then, his shirt torn to shreds earlier with no promise of replacement.

He only had a bed and a bathroom inside, which he despised very much as he sat on the bed and tried to burn a hole through the door with a hateful glare.

_I can't believe he did that to me,_ he flushed with anger and embarrassment, clutching the sheets till his hands went numb.

Chris didn't know how long he had been in his thoughts since there was no clock or watch anywhere in the room; he also hadn't noticed a white piece of paper having been shoved under his door. He laid his head on the pillow to sleep off his scarring experience, vowing to get back at Wesker for that.


End file.
